


Off the Grid

by yeagercest (murvelous)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Formula One, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Sibling Incest, Zeke Yeager is Rich, Zeke Yeager is a brocon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murvelous/pseuds/yeagercest
Summary: It’s the most prestigious racing series in the entire world featuring the fastest cars known to man and the most skilled drivers. It takes more than luck and talent to get where Eren Yeager is.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Zeke Yeager, Eren Yeager/Zeke Yeager
Comments: 30
Kudos: 105





	1. brownies

Zeke Fritz had no interest in knowing his biological father. Early on in his life, his mother had told him of their circumstance. He was conceived from a one night stand, his mother didn't mind and ultimately didn't want a husband. It was clear on why, seeing that she had been surrounded by overbearing and domineering men all her life. He was born and that was about it. Although his grandfather was concerned, he too could not convince her to do anything she didn't want. She was after all, a grown woman who had provided the Fritz family with a reliable heir and even if he wasn’t the first grandson, he was definitely capable enough to fight for the inheritance.

He didn't feel like anything was missing. It was just another part of his reality. He lived comfortably and some might even say, luxuriously. There was nothing he could complain about. 

Besides, he wasn’t attached to relationships outside a professional level. It wasn’t like he wasn’t capable of feelings per say but not many people deserved to be put on a pedestal by him. He valued his mom and his friends, which he can count by one hand. The rest didn’t hold much importance to him and so they all seemed to blur together. 

He kept tabs on Grisha Yeager's family though, albeit passively. Grisha was a well known neurosurgeon, who was barely at home. Only has about two weekends to spare every couple of months. His wife, Carla was several years younger than him and runs her very own boutique. She used to manage a bistro, where she met her now husband, resigned when she got pregnant and stayed at home to raise her child for the first couple of years before slowly getting back to her feet. To be honest they were quite boring. No affairs. No familial conflict. No hidden skeletons or anything. It was almost a waste of money.

_(Fortunately, he had much to spare.)_

Perhaps the most interesting person in their family was their son Eren. Who looked nothing like his dad but was a carbon copy of his mother. Eren was well loved by his peers, excelled in school but surprisingly, very much obsessed with karting. He started at 8 years old.

Zeke wasn't supposed to interfere with their lives. He was planning to take one look at their circumstances and push them at the back of his mind there after but due to curiosity, Zeke attended one of Eren's karting competitions.

Eren won to nobody's surprise. None of the other kids took the race seriously but he looked so proud while standing at the mini podium. Zeke might've taken a picture or two.

This boy came from the same father as him but led extremely different lives. 

* * *

Unfortunately, Eren's favorite hobby was kept a secret from his father since he didn't approve to begin with, up until he got caught. 

“He’s a child Grisha, he’s bound to be interested in these types of things!” Carla had defended her son, who was holding onto his helmet so tightly to prevent himself from crying because his father hated crying too.

“Exactly! He’s a child, an impressionable child. Eren should be focused on worthwhile things.” At this age, Eren had realized how much his own father loved talking over him instead of talking to him. Everytime his parents argued about him, he was cast aside. 

For a whole year he was bombarded with extracurricular lessons from languages, instruments to sports. He continued his lessons that exhausted and frustrated him out of spite but also to keep his parents off his ass. He was reading and speaking Italian and French aside from the Spanish lessons taught in school and the mandatory German and English. These weren’t enough to keep his attention away because a few months later after a round of begging and a few seconds of puppy dog eyes, Eren now 9 years old has convinced his older neighbor Mr. Hanes to take him to the track. 

“Better not spill anything to your parents, your dad especially because he’ll have both of our heads.” Mr. Hanes was always a bit tipsy in the evening but they only walked so it didn’t matter much.

Once he memorized the way, which was barely two blocks away from his own house, he started going there by himself. His loving parents, now busy with their respective careers and were content with seeing their son home for the night did not notice any changes.

The only ones who knew were his best friends, Armin and Mikasa, with the former nervous for his behalf and the latter disapproving. They would’ve loved to come with him but they had curfews and also strict _parents_.

Despite her appearance, Mikasa was extremely worried. “Always stay in a public space with lots of people. Don’t talk to strangers. If a car tails you-”

“Walk to the opposite direction, I know. You tell me this every Friday.” Eren was exasperated but he really did appreciate the reminders. No one else seems to warn him about these things nowadays. 

“Keep the pepper spray I gave you on your hand while walking. It’s military grade.” Armin said while tugging on Eren’s sleeve. The pepper spray was from his grandfather’s supply, he was a veteran.

Eren made sure to walk his friends home before setting off to his favorite place.

Although Eren had solved his problem of sneaking off to the track, he was yet to figure out where to get money to sustain his hobby. He didn’t have an allowance, his mother told him he wasn’t getting one until high school. He was too young to get hired for anything and he also doesn’t know how to do much at 10 years old.

_Maybe he should start charging Connie for copying off his math worksheets?_

* * *

Zeke was able to insert himself in Eren's life so quietly and seamlessly that half of him was relieved yet angry. It started with Zeke paying for Eren's kart when he sees the child pouting at the other kids on the track.

Eren had been hesitant. He was constantly warned about talking to strangers but the blond dude has been paying for his rides every week, so he has to at least be nice to him right? He also never tried to touch him or make weird conversations so it seemed fine.

Mr. Fritz (or _Zeke_ as he insisted to be called) explained that he was scouting for young talents. Eren had heard about this practice from a couple of conferences he watched and didn't think much of it. A lot of his favorite drivers were scouted at an early age. Not that he believed that the mister was an actual scout, he seemed to be too young from all the people he saw on the TV. 

On the fifth week of knowing each other, Eren had decided to make an initiative. They had made brownies in his homemaking elective earlier and he didn’t eat his share. It was wrapped up nicely in a brown paper bag, ready to be given away. 

Zeke looked at the slightly wrinkled bag the child had unceremoniously pulled out from his school bag. It was rolled and taped shut and had a scribble at the front.

**「** _**Thank you. -Eren** _ **」**

“For me?” He asked a bit dumbly while Eren reached his arm out, waiting for him to take it. 

His eyebrows furrowed but relaxed when Zeke took it off his hands. “Duh.” 

“Don’t kids usually give these to their parents?” He probed.

An unrecognizable burst of warmth bloomed in his chest. He doesn’t receive handmade gifts. It’s always watches, silk ties, Cuban cigars or a bottle of scotch. 

“No, we usually eat them for ourselves but I thought…” Eren trailed off. “If you don’t want it you could just say so.” At first glance he looked agitated but from the red in his ears, Zeke knew that the boy was actually extremely embarrassed. 

The blond carefully opened the package and the smell of brownies hit him. It was still a bit warm. He took one out and took a bite. A couple of crumbs fell on his expensive shirt. Not that Eren knows.

They probably added too much salt and not enough cocoa powder. It’s most likely not as fragrant or refined as any of the pastries a man of Zeke’s standing has ever tasted. The cuts were a bit crooked and the pieces were uneven in size but he can’t help thinking that they were too damn delicious.

They tasted even better when he saw the hopeful look in Eren’s eyes. He was able to finish them in a couple of bites. “Was it any good?”

He wiped his face with a handkerchief and took his time with it too. It was fun watching his expressions. “Surprisingly delicious. Are you sure you shouldn’t be a baker instead?” 

The biggest smile he has ever seen on Eren upon meeting him emerged on his face and Zeke was happy. “Maybe being a baker is cheaper. Getting poor Mr. Fritz?”

The older boy chuckled and gazed at the child fondly. “Not at all, I have much to spare.” 

And by a lot he meant everything and anything but neither of them knew that yet.


	2. nobody said it was easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren is 14 now and struggling a bit, just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this one up quicker than i thought i could. chapter 137 fucked me up a bit.

Eren had always been closer to his mother compared to his father. Most of his childhood memories only featured the two of them for school events, play dates and summer breaks. When his dad comes home, he’s always exhausted and somber. 

Grisha tries to make idle conversations with his son over dinner but halfway he realizes that he doesn’t have the energy to listen to the child’s chattering. He retires to his office and Eren is left to clean up the table, all the stories about his day stuck in his throat—never to be told.

It was like choking on nothing.

The gap between his father and mother’s affections doesn’t seem as big now that he’s 14. Both of them are busy. Eren knew that his mom had stopped all of her dreams when he arrived into the picture and was simply resuming where she left off. They had flipped through all her design sketches together. He didn’t know much about fabrics, colors or even fashion but she talked about her creations the same way Armin talks about chemistry, their eyes were bright and they spoke quickly but didn’t falter for a second. Such unbridled passion deserved to be poured into something worthwhile. He even assured his mother that he understood and that he was fine.

“What’s the use of all your pretty designs if they are only going to stay on paper?” He asked cheekily and it cracked a huge smile from his mother, who looked equal parts touched, amused and relieved.

He has always believed that she was her own person before she had been his mother. It was a mantra he repeated to himself in those moments of uncontrollable disappointment when he’s alone at home for the nth time in a row. 

Sure he was perfectly capable of packing his own lunches and signing his own permission slips but a part of him didn’t want to be independent and knowing. 

Was it selfish of him?

He wanted his father silently looking over his shoulder as he did his homework. He wanted his mother to wave from their veranda when he leaves for the day. He wanted weekend road trips or maybe just Friday game nights with a platter of cookies and warm cider. Quick hugs and hasty forehead kisses pretty much summed up the last four years.

_ How can you miss people you see everyday?  _

He found himself agreeing to more after school hangouts and sleepovers with his friends … but only if he didn’t agree with meeting with Mr. Fritz previously.

School, extra lessons ( yes, the same ones his father insisted on) and karting took up most of his time. Doing a good job at keeping him preoccupied. His parents didn’t question his whereabouts ever since they bought him his own phone. That way they can contact each other easily, they said.

He had set himself up for disappointment yet again. 

Eren took it upon himself to updating his parents diligently for the first two weeks, only to stop as the replies started dwindling down from sentences to a couple of letters. 

I guess they don’t have much time for texts either.

His most frequent contacts were with Armin, Mikasa and Mr. Fritz. 

He usually talked to his friends about homework, he doesn’t get to tell much stories since they were all in the same grade and class. They weren’t the type for much gossip either.

It was Mr. Fritz who heard all about Eren’s day. At first the younger boy was writing paragraphs in the text box until Zeke suggested calling instead.

“My phone plan has a monthly limit.” Eren had thought of calling many times but he read the pamphlet that came with the phone.

“I’ll get you another one.” Zeke answered simply and Eren said no. 

Did he listen? _No_. A parcel arrived on Eren’s doorstep not later than two days after their conversation.

* * *

Zeke was working now and was also attempting to grow a beard. His younger companion always made a face every time the beard got fuller than the last time they saw each other. 

He had better control of his schedule but the hours were still long. He also couldn’t skip work since he’s just starting out. He had to build rapport with his subordinates and get to know his department. On a brighter note, he looked forward to all the jokes and anecdotes Eren would be raving about in the evening, it was a nice break from a stress filled work day. 

“I was going to give you the macarons we made today but Sasha took my share.” Zeke doesn’t know how but he can hear Eren pouting from the hand held electronic device. 

Was it just him or was Eren much more childish when it’s just the two of them? 

Sending all of Eren’s handmade foods to Mr. Fritz was now the norm. Zeke had his driver pick up the little treats especially put aside for him. Most of them are hits but there are some misses here and there but Eren does not need to know that.

“Very unfortunate indeed but she is a growing lady after all.” He replied in amusement. For the record he can probably name most of Eren’s school friends at this point. There was Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Ymir and Krista. Connie, Ymir and Krista ended up in another section but they still eat lunch together.

It was a fairly big friend group. Zeke couldn’t even remember the name of most of his high school classmates. Something was still missing though.

* * *

  
  


He was able to come up with something.

Zeke could tell that Eren was a lonely kid in need of attention, the parental kind probably but he didn’t consider or treat Eren as his son, at least he’s hoping he’s not. Zeke wouldn’t know the first thing about how to be a father or even as a parent in general. He doesn’t have much material to begin with anyway and from his experience, family didn't exactly mean much.

Even if he wanted to assume that the younger boy specifically sought after his company, he knew better and instead of driving him away to socialize with kids his age ... he chose not to. He was more than fine with this set up they found themselves in. 

Most kids stayed up late on Fridays and woke up late on the weekends. Eren on the other hand was attending Red Bull’s driver's academy and competing. He started last year and was making steady progress. He’d been working especially hard because he was hoping to sit into a car soon. His name was slowly getting out there. Nowhere near mainstream media of course, but rather in the smaller racing circles. 

(Zeke tried not to show the anxiety on his face when Eren mentioned driving the real deal. The dangers were multiplied by more than a hundred percent. Those cars were just techy and flashy deathtraps and you can't convince him otherwise)

In an event filled with doting parents and their children, a teenager and a young man in his early 20s stood out like a pair sore thumbs. The said pair pretended not to notice.

The older knew that although cash was the very foundation of the sport (apart from the obvious which were cars) it wasn't the only factor. Skill doesn't matter if you have yet to tackle the woes of politics and nepotism in the sport. Zeke wasn't worried, the nouveau riche were all fighting for a place but this was one of the instances where a deep and elaborate family background came in handy.

Fortunately, he had very good relations with the Reiss family and in turn the Ackermans, both clans had a generational legacy in motorsport. Uri Reiss and Kenny Ackerman Jr. were considered hall of famers, a famed rivalry which later on turned on to a golden pair. They've managed to snatch the most podium finishes for a pair of teammates in the history of formula one racing for Ferrari.

(Rumor has it that Kenny wanted to join Uri in Ferrari so badly that he had been willing to take half the pay the former was making. Apparently, another round of negotiations happened with better conditions for the latter.)

What mattered was that Zeke was capable of securing Eren a spot by the time he turned 18. The worst case scenario was he'll have to stay with Renault or McLaren for his rookie season but if everything goes to plan, Eren would be in Red Bull partnered up with Moblit Berner. Eren was only 14 now but in the racing world, seasons went by as quick as their best cars. Contracts were yet to end but the bigger stakes have already been decided. 

Zeke wouldn't want to spoil the coming seasons for anyone.

From there he was confident that even if Eren wasn't great at driving, (which he doubts, even if he was _admittedly_ —a bit biased) he would definitely be happy. This was Zeke's standard of doing things. 

He doesn't know when Eren started to matter so much to him but he learned not to question it anymore because every time those vibrant green eyes met his, it was game over. The reason would come to him in time … hopefully. 

* * *

  
  


"Zeke!" He didn't like it but it would be a miracle if he didn't get to meet an acquaintance or three. "I didn't take you for a motorsport fan." At least it was somebody younger, the older folks were so much harder to handle.

Reiner Braun was in Formula 2 now, looking for a championship to get a smooth ride towards the big boy league.

"I recently gained interest." He shook hands with him politely. Zeke felt Eren glance at them. "By the way, Reiner meet Eren Yeager. My- or rather a talent I'm cultivating." _Your what now Zeke?_

The other blond's eyebrow quirked at that. "Shit, you're actually serious. Pleasure to meet you Eren Yeager. How old are you?" He offered the younger man a hand. 

He didn’t look much yet when placed in the middle of two blond giants but he was quite tall compared to his peers. Eren’s going to grow out of that scrawny phase eventually, for now Zeke enjoys being able to effortlessly ruffle his soft brown hair whenever and wherever he wants. 

Eren took the hand seriously. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Braun. I'm 14 and congratulations on your recent win, your last lap was amazing. " He made sure to give a firm grip. First impressions last and all that.

Reiner seemed to be surprised with the recognition but especially pleased. Zeke had to fight an eye roll. 

_ Does nobody praise him at home? _

"I like you kiddo,” What was he smirking for? “are you going to be one of my future opponents?" Unfortunately, even a blockhead like Braun knew the right questions to ask to get a kid to warm up to him.

"I'm working on it." Eren replied confidently. 

_That's my boy._ Zeke unconsciously smiled.

Reiner's grin got wider at that. Who knows what his mind has come up with. "That's the spirit! You got some fire in you don't ya? We Germans have to stick together and put Deutschland back on the map." He clapped Eren on the back. His bicep alone was thrice the thickness of Eren’s forearm, Zeke would appreciate it if he toned it down. 

Eren had an exercise routine but nothing too strenuous and he was far from being built like Braun. Professional drivers had to be able to withstand unusual amounts of g-force. 

"You can go now. Berthold might shit in his trousers if he doesn't see you for more than five minutes." As if on cue, a phone rang. "There he goes."

"I swear he wants to get attached to my hip quite literally." Reiner grumbled while taking his phone out and dropping the call. "See you around Eren and Zeke. Good luck!" He waved before disappearing into the crowd, in search of his anxious advisor slash best friend.

"Cheerful one, isn't he?" Zeke muttered under his breath in exasperation and Eren had laughed at that. "Let's go back to the garage now. You have a race to win." His motivating smile was back in place. Eren's whole face glowed in excitement. How was that even possible. His happy expression was really too impactful.

Maybe Zeke was a bit excited for race day too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> showed a bit of kenny and uri because i believe that they are soulmates.


	3. a dinner and a race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home isn’t always a place, sometimes it’s a dorky blond in his mid-20s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg thanks for all the the kudos and lovely comments hhh 🥺 i didn’t realize that there was quite an audience for our fave couple!!! i am very excited to share this with you guys 🥰 happy reading ^^

Eren was having a rare family dinner with both of his parents. His father had been home for longer than 18 hours and that in itself was already a miracle. His mother comes much more regularly to eat, sleep and shower but she’s been going back and forth by her studio and shop so she never stays for long. He himself had school, racing weekends and international flights to catch up to so the house was always fairly clean. There wasn’t much his mother could nag him about. 

She likes to check on him every couple of weeks, “Anything interesting happening in school lately?” Carla didn’t notice until now but Eren hit a growth spurt. She vaguely recalls that her son reached his father’s ear when they momentarily stood together before sitting down to have dinner. Time flew by fast.

He was enrolled in a Gymnasium which had a higher academic demand than all of the other secondary education schools. They were required to learn two foreign languages and had AP classes for all of his STEM classes. Having Armin and Mikasa by his side was like getting free tutoring lessons unprovoked.

“Nothing much. Same old.” Eren replied perfunctorily. He has learned his lesson early on that when his parents were asking him about his day, it was mainly out of politeness and a pitiful attempt to include him in some conversation. 

Oh, he can talk for hours on end but just not with them.

“Getting quite built now, did you join the varsity?” She continued to ask, genuinely interested for once.

Eren had a fleeting moment wherein he thought of sharing what he really has been doing lately, even just a bit of it. Pretend that he has been going karting every once in a while, non-competitively of course. Just to see their reactions.

“As long as it’s not interrupting your studies.” His father butted in with a pause and a pointed look.

Well that immediately crushed any more thoughts of possibly telling them.

“I don’t have time to join competitively but I’ve been working out.” Grisha nodded approvingly at that and continued eating.

_Lying to your parents shouldn’t be this easy._ The reasons and excuses flow out of his mouth so nonchalantly. His eyes were relaxed and his posture was casual, what he said might as well just be the truth.

Carla wished she could figure out what was wrong with the atmosphere. It was like something shifted between all of them but everything felt and looked normal. She tried to recall their past dinners and they all go the same way, nothing was amiss even if her intuition was telling her otherwise.

She looked over to her son. His face had slimmed down and sharpened. His hands were able to grasp the utensils in full now, he used to fumble with it a lot when he was younger. He was also a lot more tanned, now that she’s thought about it. He’s grown so much.

She didn’t remember buying him that particular shirt (or anything for the last few months but maybe her memory was just faulty). 

The Eren inside of her head has been talkative and explosive. He had a short fuse and his primary school days weren’t complete without a scuffle with a classmate or two every month. She knew that he was kind at heart and followed his own line of reasoning even when he was young. Her Eren barely reached her waist and had insisted on sitting on her lap as she showed him her old sketchbooks. He would glide his fingers over the lines and smudge some of the soft pastels on the page but she didn’t mind. 

They haven’t done that in quite a while haven’t they?

“Dear, are you free this weekend? I want to show you around the shop. You haven’t been there in ages. It has changed so much and gotten bigger.” She enthusiastically helped him clear up the table and followed him to the sink.

She’s been meaning to get a dishwasher for a while now but Grisha keeps on putting it off. _“Eren could handle it.”_ He insisted.

His broad back was facing her. “Sorry mom, I’ve already made plans. It’s a bit of a short notice.” He looked back and replied apologetically.

It was stupid to feel hurt over this but, unexpectedly there was a pinch of dissapointment “I see... “ She trailed off but fixed up her tone. “Well you can drop by anytime you want. You still remember the way don’t you?”

Eren nodded and that was that. The clinking of the glasses was the only sound left in the room. Looks like he didn’t have more to say and admittedly, the silence further grated on her intuition.

“I’ll leave you to the dishes then.” 

There was no need to fuss. She comforted herself. The shop wasn’t going to leave and neither was her son.

* * *

“Oh honey, can you tell your homeroom adviser that I won’t be able to make it to the PTA meeting?”

“Might have to pass that one up Eren, the shop has been getting busier. I’ll try to go to the next one?”

“Ask your father for a change, I don’t have the time.”

* * *

  
  


It was the inaugural season of the 2014 Italian F4 Championship.

Zeke dreaded this day. Eren would be competing in a car that was surely going to run at least a hundred kilometers per hour. The younger of course had been anticipating it ever since he realized that he had an actual future in this industry. 

They were currently in Adria, the first of the six cities in Italy where the races would be held. Zeke has long stopped asking Eren what excuses he gave his parents that allows him to be gone starting from Friday evening up to Monday morning at the latest. 

(Eren had made up all sorts of vague academic activities that he used as a reason for going out, if ever his parents decide to ask. Key word: if.)

They were in the garage, Eren was warming up his reflexes and Zeke looked over to the car. Shiny, sleek and dangerous. Just imagining Eren in it was making him feel anxious. 

“Stop looking constipated Mr. Fritz.” The teen called out to him without averting away from the tennis balls he was attempting to catch. He was about to deny it, “I can feel you glaring at the car.”

The tightness in his chest eased a bit because he was amused. “Oh, you can feel it?”

“Driver’s intuition.” He replied teasingly and Zeke let out a huge sigh half-jokingly. “There you go again!”

He walked closer to the duo. “I can’t help it. This is very different from karting you know.”

Zeke has a feeling that Eren just rolled his eyes and from the grin of his trainer, he was right. “Such a worry wart. You’ll grow grey hairs if you keep this up.”

“Mr. Fritz, would you even be able to handle it when he makes his way to Formula 3, 2 and 1?” Gustav was fond of Eren. There were no doubts about the familial backgrounds of most of these kids and most of the time their personalities are not simple.

It’s not like they meant to be rude or mean-spirited but none of them go out of their way to be polite either. Gustav remembers every teenage driver that has gone through him but he doubts they remember him. Eren on the other hand was a good kid. He wasn’t particularly humble or talkative but everytime he meets with the crew he greets and thanks them. Small actions make big differences. 

“Please don’t remind him. He’s going to start overthinking and get fine lines.” Gustav laughed at that. He doesn't exactly know how these two are related but from the looks of it, their bond was strong despite the age gap. 

“First, grey hairs and now fine lines? What’s next, a nursing home?” If a grown man can pout in a dignified manner then that was exactly what Zeke was doing. 

Eren was done with his warm up and slipped into his tracksuit. 

This was it.

* * *

It was hard to put into words the euphoric feeling of zooming across the track. His heart was pumping fast, a touch of nervousness and excitement. He was entering a zone which made him forget about his deteriorating relationship with his parents, the pending schoolworks waiting in his luggage back at the hotel, the blatant disapproval of his best friends with his career of choice and some new feelings that have been recently nagging the back of his mind.

(Suddenly they all seemed irrelevant compared to the heat of his palms and the tension that’s filled his body. Gravity is weighing down on him but somehow velocity prevails.)

He didn’t necessarily think of racing as an escape because that meant that he was back into captivity when he’s off the grid. He didn’t feel trapped in his normal life … for the most part. 

Eren loved the last few minutes of his history class every Friday. He enjoyed walking Armin and Mikasa home before doing so himself. Packing up his things have always been therapeutic. Locking the house up and watching it get smaller and smaller as he goes farther felt like freedom. 

(However, he doesn’t realize that he’s been holding his breath until he’s settling beside Mr. Fritz in a journey off to somewhere far away from home and the relief overcomes his senses.)

_Wasn’t this the feeling home was supposed to give him? Why was he feeling it elsewhere?_

Driving through straights were nice but Eren lived for the thrill of turning in corners, trying to hit the apex and getting ahead of his opponents. The pit stops are a bit of a blur, they last for a couple of seconds and soon he’s taking his foot off the brakes and races.

It’s over before he knows it. A checkered flag was waved and he made it to the end. The exhaustion and the sweat come to him gradually. He barely hears the congratulations from the engineer and he’s grinning like mad. 

_Oh_ , he was made for this. He had no other place in the world other than the grid. 

“First place in your first race! Atta boy!”

The adrenaline dies down as he hops off his car after parking it in the middle of the two drivers who came after him and his crew jumped at him excitedly. How good does it feel to be surrounded by people who were rooting for your victory as much as you were for yourself? Too damn great.

Zeke weaves his way through the crowd and immediately notices the look in Eren’s eyes. _Happy and elated_. It was at this moment he knew that there was no turning back for Eren, for the both of them actually. He encases him in a hug, the very first ever since he’s met this little guy at ten. Eren went from barely speaking three words to him to drooling on his shoulder during international flights.

Eren’s chin sat contentedly at his shoulder and he heard a couple of sniffles. Alas, he was still a child inside. How endearing. 

Tanned fingers clutched at his shirt tightly and the tensed body gradually relaxed in the warm embrace.

Whether it was in Italy, Monaco, Germany or Abu Dhabi Zeke wanted to keep Eren in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes zeke and eren hugged for the first time ever bc they are somewhat inept in showing affection and all that lol 😔 btw im on tumblr if yall want to grow the zekeren community over there @yeagercest c:


	4. the trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three might be a crowd but it's Eren's favorite type of crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what came over me but here's an overdue chapter on ema lol

It’s one of those rare weekends when Eren, Armin and Mikasa get to hang out.

It’s been ages since they managed to get together in Eren’s house and just accompany each other. Mikasa was looking around Eren’s room. At a glance it’s the same as she remembered. Worn racing posters on the wall, a shelf filled with books the school has required over the years, navy blue sheets, framed pictures that have collected a bit of dust and former karting trophies that looked brand new.

_ He clearly knew his priorities. _ She thought to herself. 

Honestly, she had been expecting to see some more proof of what he’s been running off to do in the last few years. Eren told them that he had gotten a sponsorship of some sort, a team was funding his career and stuff like that. She’s hesitant to believe it but she doesn’t want to think of the alternative Eren could be doing to pay for his racing. 

Armin and herself had done extensive research over the days that Eren was gone, all about formula racing. They even had notes about the different types of leagues it has, the tracks that were used, the requirements for the engines and the cost of all of this. On one hand they had been curious but they were significantly more concerned.

Here was her best friend of so many years, going around cities she couldn’t even pronounce, racing for his life. Did he get nervous? Was he getting along with the people over there? How good did it feel to win? She has so many questions she never knew when to ask or if she can even ask.

She has seen the crashes, malfunctions and casualties. It takes so much willpower from her to not pull Eren back from walking away every time he takes her home after school. She knows that Eren doesn’t talk about racing as much anymore because of her disapproval. He avoids the subject with ease and she doesn’t know how to bring it up.

This was her chance.

“You’ve won plenty of times, where are the trophies?” She was sitting on the middle of his bed while Eren was sitting by the foot of it. Armin was on Eren’s desk fumbling with his laptop but looked up to Mikasa with wide eyes.

_ Oh no. _

“The team keeps it for me.” Eren leaned back on his arms and glanced back at her. She was about to ask another question, “I don’t want to risk my parents seeing any proof of what I’m doing.” His gaze was meaningful and she knew what he was getting at. 

The implication of the truth going out because of her.

“I’m not going to snitch on you Eren.” She grounded out bitterly. She had thought about just coming clean to his parents a couple of times in the past, but it had been fleeting. She couldn’t do that to him.

“I didn’t say you would but since you’ve said it now, I’ll hold you onto that.” Mikasa doesn’t know if Eren has gotten better at riling people up or if she was just so much easier to rile up now. How the tables have turned.

Armin was pushing the laptop away now and turning the chair to face them, worried. “If I planned to, I would’ve already done it.”

“Am I supposed to owe you then?” Armin grimaced. Things were escalating fast as per usual with this pair’s disagreements. 

Mikasa was affronted. “You don’t need to be an asshole about it.” 

“I’m being an asshole? I invited you guys here because I know we haven’t been hanging out since I’ve been busy.” Eren sat up from the bed and faced her. “Everytime I talk about racing you look so disappointed and now that I don’t talk about it, you suddenly want to be nosy?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you don’t agree with what I’m doing Mikasa but can you tone your distaste down? Because I can tell every time you’re mentally grimacing at me.” Eren’s expression hardened. “I want to be able to share stories with you. I want to tell you about Italy, about my crew, about my car, about the tracks, about the races I’ve won and the ones I lost but I hate how you look at me.”

Armin gently rubbed Eren on the back. “Eren, we want to hear about it too. You know we miss you.”

Mikasa hated that tears were welling up in her eyes.  _ Fuck, why does it have to be right now?  _

She has always argued with Eren but they never had a serious fight because at the end of the day, they were always on the same side. Only now were things completely different. 

Armin saw the anger die out of Eren’s expression at sight of Mikasa’s tears and he was relieved. This was such an Eren and Mikasa thing to do.

The brunette walked over to the side of the bed and sat down next to Mikasa who was swearing under her breath while trying to wipe at her face. “I’m not mad. I’m just really hurt that I can’t share the thing I love doing the most, to the people I love.” He put a hand over her shoulder and pulled her to him. She has been pulled into these hugs countless of times but the comfort it brought her every time was something she still longed for.

“I’m not mad either.” Mikasa replied. “I’m just worried.”

Eren exhaled. “You’re always worried.”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “I’m not disappointed in you at all, I’ve never been. I want to hear about your races. I want to see your trophies and maybe one day I can see you racing too.” She couldn’t seem to look Eren in the eyes because the tears didn’t want to stop.

How can she be disappointed in somebody who was doing everything in his abilities to make it into a sport that regular people can only dream of? How can she be disappointed in her best friend making his ambitions a reality at 17 and most likely even earlier than that? She was upset with herself because she made Eren feel that way. Especially with his current relationship with his parents, he probably felt extremely lonely and she hated that.

_ They were supposed to be there for each other. _

“I’ll see what I can do.” He meant that wholeheartedly. Eren really is looking forward to the day that Mikasa and Armin can watch him from the stands. It would mean the world to him.

He shot a look over to Armin who stood beside him, who thought Eren wanted him to say something comforting but he was surprised when he was pulled into a hug.

_ Some things stay the same. _

People always think that Armin was the peacemaker between the three of them (which was applicable to an extent) since Eren and Mikasa had big personalities but it was actually Eren who would always initiate just about everything.

Eren approached him first and he did the same with Mikasa. He was the one who would invite himself over to their houses. He would ask them to save a seat for him in class. He would urge them to do homework together. Eren had never been afraid of reaching out, this was one of the few times he had pulled back to hide himself away.

Armin has always been an introverted and shy kid but he’s gotten better over the years. He wanted to be a more reassuring friend too. Eren can depend on him too.

  
(Still he was unused to initiating affection just like this but you know what, Eren gave good hugs.)

Mikasa hit Eren on the chest when he  _ finally  _ let go of them.. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like, you’re not friends with you.”

“I would want to be friends with me to be honest.” Armin scoffed at that and Eren pouted.

His friends clearly adored him. 

They were a year away from university. Eren knew that Armin and Mikasa had plans to go pursue a degree and soon he would be participating in races that would singlehandedly decide his future. He had no idea how to break the news to his parents and he absolutely had no clue on how they would react but he had to take things one step at a time if he wanted a higher chance of success from all of his problems.

For now he was going to enjoy Armin criticizing the specs of his laptop and Mikasa looking over the pictures Mr. Fritz had taken during the years. 

Eren with his crew, Eren on a podium, Eren on the track and so on and so forth. Sides of Eren that Mikasa has missed and that she’s trying her damn best to catch up to. She didn’t want to have any regrets in regards to Eren ever again.

They may not know it now but from here on out, nothing was going to stay the same. Different paths have to be taken and who knows what would be waiting for them on the other side? This was a moment that shouldn’t be taken for granted while it lasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zekeless chapter but i had to do it! zeke is off somewhere making money to spoil eren with /hj. thank you so much for reading and please tell me your thoughts :D


End file.
